


The Gay Bomb (or, How Lynch failed spectacularly and sexily)

by therealfroggy



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lynch drugs the A-Team with an aphrodisiac, and sexy times ensue. Yes, the sex pollen made 'em do it. Written in response to a kink meme at LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gay Bomb (or, How Lynch failed spectacularly and sexily)

“Okay, so what's this master plan of yours?” Pike asked, situating himself on the expensive leather couch. These CIA boys had a deal far too good for them, little bureaucratic punks in expensive suits with no real understanding of fighting or the people doing the fighting. But as long as Pike got to enjoy the fruits of Lynch's connections, he wouldn't complain.

“You ever heard of the Gay Bomb?” Lynch asked, looking insufferably smug.

Pike guffawed. “You're losing it, Lynch. The Gay Bomb? Chemical shit turning soldiers gay? That's just a myth. And even if it wasn't, how the hell should that help you get the A-Team? They're not gonna keel over and die just because they suddenly get hard over guys.”

Lynch made an irritated sound with an accompanying fruity gesture. “First off, it's not a myth, caveman. I'm government, remember? I know shit like this. Secondly, yeah, that was a failed project, but it gave me a great idea. I'm gonna hit them with a huge dose of Bremelanotide.”

“Bremelanotide?” Pike asked.

“A strong aphrodisiac,” Lynch clarified. “It doesn't work on the vascular system, like Viagra, and that's the beauty of it. It fucks with their brains or something, I didn't get that part. But the result is, they get all sex-crazed. I'm going to lock them in an enclosed space and put them through a real mindfuck.”

Pike rolled his eyes. “You're crazy, Lynch. And stupid. This'll never work.”

“It will, too,” Lynch snapped. “They'll get into a whole orgy-thing, it'll fuck with their minds, and while the whole team is busy freaking out over their sexual identity, we'll sneak up on them and kill everyone. And you are going to help me.”

***

Hannibal had known Pike was stupid, but he'd never have guessed just _how_ stupid the mercenary could get when he combined forces with Lynch. And this, in the colonel's educated opinion, had just elevated their combined stupidity to levels heretofore unknown.

“So let me see if I got this straight,” Hannibal growled, chewing on his cigar with agitation. “You figured that the mythical Gay Bomb would be the best strategy for taking on my team, so you locked us in an old storage shed with a chemical weapon set to go off in a few minutes. Then you failed to realize Face had picked his handcuffs, and now you dumb fucks are trapped right in here with us. That about cover it?”

“It's a supply room,” Lynch said sourly. “Pike, get us out of here, would you?!”

“And how do you expect me to do that, huh?” Pike snarled, held pretty firmly in place by an angrily growling BA. “I _told_ you, you don't handcuff a man behind his back. Jeez, you're a real genius!”

Murdock went to the door and heaved at it with all his might. Nothing happened. “Locked from the outside, boss.”

“See, you just had to have your evil minions in place with a padlock,” Pike groaned. “What part of ´Wait until we call you before locking it up` didn't they understand?”

“You'd better reset that fancy bomb of yours, Lynch,” Face said with a grin. “Or you're set for the most uncomfortable couple hours of your life.”

Lynch scowled. “It's impossible, Peck. What, haven't you ever seen a Bond movie? The bad guys always fuck up when they leave their adversaries a way out. I disabled the whole control mechanism thing. That weapon will discharge, no matter what you do to it.”

Just then, a little lamp on the aforementioned weapon began blinking ominously and a series of low beeps followed it.

“Ten seconds,” Face said quickly, looking from the little digital display to Hannibal. “What do we do, boss?”

Hannibal sighed. He'd seen some of the subjects in the early testing phase of the Bremelanotide (he'd been invited, as one of the Army's most prominent officers in Iraq, to give his opinion on the theoretical development of the so-called Gay Bomb and he'd told them directly that it was a load of bullshit), and it wasn't pretty. Unless you liked seeing people get so desperate for sex they tried fucking the animal subjects in the same lab, of course.

Hannibal actually found himself wishing the idiots had managed to procure an actual Gay Bomb rather than this brain Viagra, because mere attraction he could deal with. Desperate arousal was another ballgame. The only good thing about their situation was, he knew what to expect and he could make this bearable to his team.

“Face, Murdock. Tie Lynch up, and tie him good.”

The bomb uttered a high-pitched screech and fell open, emitting a dense cloud of dust that quickly dispersed. Hannibal could see it spreading through the room. He ran over to BA and helped him tie Pike down.

“We've got about ten minutes,” Hannibal said through clenched teeth, tightening the knot in Pike's wrists. “Then we won't be able to think straight.”

When Pike and Lynch were face-down on the floor, trussed up like Christmas turkeys, Hannibal turned to his team with resignation written all over his face.

“With a dose that strong, we might not even have ten minutes,” he said, talking quickly but quietly. “Face, BA, search the room. Bring me anything and everything that can be used as lubrication.”

Face's eyes bulged. “Hannibal!”

“Don't argue with me, Face, just get it done!” Hannibal barked. The sergeant and lieutenant both jumped to obey. Hannibal turned to Murdock and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“HM, I know we were planning on doing this under more, uh, ideal circumstances, but it's got to be now, you understand?”

Murdock nodded sagely. “Yes, sir. I understand. Do you take Bosco, or should I?”

“I'll do it, captain.” Hannibal pulled his shoulders back, standing up straight. Then his eyes fell on Lynch and Pike, bound and angry-looking in the corner. Hannibal smiled evilly. “Or we could just let Lynch handle the fallout from his own stupidity.”

“Boss,” Face panted. He was holding an assortment of little containers, as was BA. “Uh, I don't mean to interrupt, but that bromotude?”

“Bremelanotide.”

“Yeah, that. Lynch was telling the truth? It's an, um, an aphrodisiac?” Face asked, looking a little uncomfortable. And aroused; cheeks flushed and eyes glittering with heat. Definitely aroused.

“A strong one,” Hannibal confirmed. Damn it, his skin was beginning to itch pleasantly. “It works on the nervous system. In just a few minutes... Actually, just about now, we're feeling the effects. It only gets worse from here. I want you boys to promise me, right now, that what happens in this room is never used against any member of the team. It could get ugly. We'll probably act like hormonal teenagers on a combination of speed and Viagra. I need you to deal with this rationally.”

BA looked away, scowl deepening. “Sorry, boss, I don't think I can. I ain't never touched a guy before.”

“Well, prepare to break a few boundaries, because the last time I saw this drug in effect, it resulted in a _goat_ walking funny for a few days on account of a _marine_ ,” Hannibal said. “If it's any consolation, Murdock and I had actually planned to bring you boys in on a foursome already. Better us than Pike and Lynch, huh?”

Face stared. “You... and Murdock?”

Murdock giggled, blushing and restless. “Me and the bossman, Facey. I do declare, it's gettin' hot in here, ain't it?”

BA groaned, turning to punch the wall – leaving a crater of cracked plaster and concrete. “This is fucking humiliatin'! I swear, if that sucka wasn't tied up...”

“You shouldn't care that he is,” Hannibal said, wiping sweat off his forehead. Every nerve ending in his body was screaming for attention; his skin felt alive with electricity and his hands twitched towards the boys of their own accord. “You take it out on him, BA, if you feel you have to. If not...”

Face gave a strangled sound and palmed himself through his trousers, the bulge there obvious. “Shit, Hannibal. I think... I think I like your initial plan better. Can't we just get out of here and go have sex?”

“No time,” Hannibal grunted, trying so, so hard not to just reach out and drag them all down to the floor so he could fuck them in alphabetical order. Or maybe chronological; his mind was giving up on the whole aspect of logic. “Have to wait until it wears off. Can't... think straight.”

“Ain't nothing about you that's straight, Hannibal,” Murdock murmured in his ear, giggling. “Not even your -”

“Oh god,” Face gasped, just before he threw himself around Hannibal's neck and shoved his tongue into Hannibal's mouth.

“I haven't experimented since high school,” Face gasped, breaking the kiss just long enough to grab Murdock by the hair so he could stare into the pilot's eyes. “So this will probably end in tears, but Murdock, can I fuck you?”

Murdock seemed to melt away and reappear in Face's arms with a little rusty can in his hand. “Better get the engine oil warmed up, then.”

Hannibal squatted down and groped about in the stuff Face had found until his hand closed on something. It turned out to be some sort of grease, which was the only word Hannibal read from the label before he decided it was good enough. Back on his feet, he was faced with the sight of Murdock and Face scrambling at each other's clothes.

“Naked!” Face demanded. “Naked! Now!”

Hannibal began shedding clothing at high speed. His shirt was soaked with sweat, his pants stubbornly refused to cooperate when he tried easing them off his hips. He was beginning to lose interest in anything beyond orgasm, and the thought that this was an awkward situation hadn't even crossed his mind. He watched Murdock's eyes scrunch up in discomfort when Face yanked on his belt, and fuck, his dick was hard.

A hesitant hand on his shoulder forced Hannibal to focus. He turned around to find BA there, still fully clothed, but with all the tell-tale signs of arousal written all over him. And that just made Hannibal even harder, damn it.

“I think... I need you to do it,” BA muttered, taking in Hannibal's now mostly naked form. “I can't... can't...”

“Oh, BA,” Hannibal groaned, pulling the other man to him, biting roughly at his throat. “I've wanted to hear you say that.”

“What, can't?”

Hannibal chuckled, his mind once more focused on orgasm, his body incapable of contributing to anything else. He fisted a hand in the gold chain around BA's neck and pulled the sergeant closer, close enough so he could whisper in his ear.

“That you need me, BA. Turn around.”

“Boss, I ain't -” BA began, but he didn't even finish before he was turned around, hands braced on the wall, Hannibal kicking his legs apart.

Soon enough both men's trousers were around their ankles, BA's shirt open and a little torn and Hannibal's wholly absent. Hannibal was panting into the dark skin in front of him, lips tracing over broad shoulders. His dick was pressing against the small of BA's back.

“Fuck,” BA groaned. “Boss, this ain't... You usually this hard?”

“The drug,” Hannibal rasped, throwing the lid of the grease jar off to one side. “You've never done this before?”

BA shook his head, silently. He was so hard it hurt, and he needed this so badly, but he didn't know how to do anything about it. He guessed it was going to hurt like hell, if that thing Hannibal called a dick was going inside any part of his body.

Slick fingers began rubbing over his entrance and he tensed, hands bracing harder against the wall. Hannibal pushed one finger inside him and BA clenched his eyes shut.

“Ease up, big guy,” Hannibal muttered, rutting against BA's thigh while he was working another finger slowly into the sergeant. “Or 's gonna hurt. You okay, BA?”

“Bosco,” the younger man muttered, trying to relax and accept the intrusion. “Call me Bosco.”

“Bosco,” Hannibal immediately purred, three fingers now working quickly to slick their way through that tight ring of muscle. “Fuck, I like that. You ready for me, Bosco?”

Not really waiting for an answer, Hannibal grabbed BA's hips and held himself steady, his cock pushing insistently at BA's ass. With a sharp thrust, the head slid in, and Hannibal groaned in relief as BA groaned in discomfort.

“Careful,” he managed to gasp. “Go slow!”

“Sorry,” Hannibal grunted, pushing inch after inch of hard flesh into BA's tense body. “Oh, fuck, Bosco, you feel incredible!”

There was no time for slow and gentle; Hannibal's mind was little more than a haze of need and if it hadn't been for the discomfort of being deflowered against the wall in a supply room, BA would have been just as far gone. There was only pushing, thrusting, grunts and gasps as the two men rutted and pressed towards climax, muscle shifting and straining under sweat-slicked skin.

“Fuck,” Hannibal muttered, biting roughly at BA's shoulders. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Hannibal!” BA gasped. Every now and then Hannibal's dick hit something inside him that made his vision grey out and his legs shake with the strain of keeping him upright. His cheek was chafing against the wall, the rough movements of Hannibal inside him the only thing he could focus on through the pulsing lust in his body.

“Touch yourself, Bosco,” Hannibal ordered, unable to stop fucking into his sergeant. “Show me. Show me how to...”

BA took hold of himself, stroked with a firm grip, closed his eyes tight and focused on the sensations. The hardness of both bodies, their erections, their arms, everything. Hannibal's chest against his back. The boss' hands on his hips. The softness of the tongue tracing patterns on his shoulder, interspersed with little biting nips. He groaned and stroked faster, his feet shuffling a little as Hannibal changed his angle.

Hannibal's hand joined his on his cock, and BA growled with pleasure. Two big hands intertwined, fingers touching as they worked in tandem to bring him off. Within moments, BA groaned, stuttered, his voice catching in his throat as Hannibal's clever fingers brought him to the edge and over it. His release hit him suddenly and forcefully; he gave a roar and spent himself over their joined hands, clenching and twitching around Hannibal.

“Oh, Bosco,” Hannibal gasped. “Bosco, that's...”

Tired and spent, BA could only scrabble at the wall to hold himself upright as Hannibal fucked him. The older man was really vocal during sex, something BA didn't usually appreciate, but in this situation? It just seemed to right to have Hannibal's reassuring voice in his ear for this. It anchored him.

Then Hannibal pulled out, suddenly, and BA felt a splash of warmth on the back of his thigh, heard Hannibal cry out. Felt the older man's thundering heartbeat against the small of his back. Hannibal shivered through his orgasm, little spasms racking his body until he stilled completely, breathing heavily into BA's skin.

“Bosco...”

“Hannibal,” BA said, trying not to listen to how his own voice was rough and breathless at the same time. “You okay, man?”

“Mm.”

If he didn't know better, BA would think the older man was falling asleep right there, he sounded almost drowsy.

“Fuck, BA, I'm sorry you're gonna be sore, but considering the circumstances, that was pretty enjoyable,” Hannibal muttered, pressing a few little kisses against his skin again. “How's, uh, how're you doing?”

“Next time, I get to top,” BA said, tired but with a grin on his face. Who'd have known Hannibal would get so mellow after sex? Well, apart from Murdock, apparently. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad after all.

“If my memory serves, that'll be in about twenty minutes,” Hannibal sighed. “I'm sorry, big guy, but this stuff doesn't wear off that quickly. We'll probably need another round before we can work on getting out of here.”

BA frowned. “Another round? You sound as if we're doing laps, boss.”

Hannibal chuckled into his skin. “Yeah, well, this is just damage control, after all. Now, what HM and I had in mind, on the other hand, was far more sophisticated. We were thinking a bottle of scotch and some tapenade to get you going, maybe the scent of engine oil on Murdock's skin...”

They both laughed, and pushed off the wall to slowly pull their trousers back up, both men tired and shaky from the frenzied tryst.

“Instead I got to fuck you against the wall of some filthy supply shed,” Hannibal added drily. “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, man, 's all good,” BA said, looking at the floor. “Scotch and engine oil would-a been better, but this way we don't have to beat around the bush, right? All up-front and out there.”

Hannibal gave him one of those rare smiles which wasn't anything but an expression of genuine pleasure. “Good man,” he said, patting BA on the shoulder. “Still, if you want to kick Lynch and Pike around a bit, they're right over there. Violence for the sake of violence is not something I'd usually encourage, but...”

BA snarled, throwing an angry look at the two men tied up on the floor. But when he caught sight of the two of them and what they were doing, his snarl changed to an interesting cross between laughter and embarrassment.

“Uh, boss, I think they're punishing themselves. Or at least they will be, once they get out.”

Hannibal let his gaze follow BA's, and couldn't contain a disbelieving exclamation. Their hands were still tied behind their backs, their legs still tied together, but nobody had bothered gagging them. And Lynch was taking full advantage of this, seeing as his dick was currently down Pike's throat. The agent was moaning in a decidedly whorish manner as Pike's mouth worked on him; the mercenary's cheeks hollowed and Lynch cried out, his body jerking as he – quite obviously – came.

“Spits,” Hannibal said, just as BA said, “Swallows.”

BA was right.

“Pretty impressive, getting Lynch's pants open with only his teeth,” Hannibal commented, grinning.

BA grinned right back. “I just knew they had something going on.”

“Hey, where are the others?” Hannibal suddenly asked, looking around for Face and Murdock. The room wasn't that big; they couldn't have gone far, but he couldn't see them. Leaving Lynch and Pike to deal with the problem of Pike's belt, he headed for the only part of the room he couldn't see – the far corner, hidden by two large crates.

“Boss, don't you think -” BA began, but Hannibal didn't listen.

Stepping around the crates, worried that Face might have freaked out or that Murdock had been too rough with the conman, Hannibal stopped dead in his tracks when he found his two team members on the floor. They were completely naked, unlike himself and BA who were fully dressed again. They were lying on most of their clothing. And they were cuddling and kissing like god damn newly-weds.

“Love you, HM,” Face said into the skin of Murdock's throat.

“Aaw, Facey, I heard you the first time,” Murdock said, blushing and smiling. “But you can say it again if you want.”

Hannibal smiled down at his boys. “I see we should have gone with the champagne and roses after all, huh, HM?”

Face looked up, eyes glazed and a silly grin plastered across his face. “What?”

“We were going to bring you over to the dark side, Facey,” Murdock said, pulling the conman closer.

All that naked skin was distracting Hannibal; he figured if they kept that up, he wouldn't need the drug to go another round. But even as he thought it, that itch made itself known again and judging by the restless way BA shifted next to him, the sergeant was also feeling that first sting of arousal. Murdock and Face were still rubbing slowly against each other, but they'd get there in due time, Hannibal figured.

“At first we decided you'd be pleased with expensive champagne and roses,” Hannibal said, smirking down at Face's wide eyes. “But then we figured the sight of BA and Murdock taking turns fucking me might be the key to your conversion.”

BA made a strangled sound of protest. “Boss, I wouldn't...”

“Oh, you would,” Murdock assured him from the floor, “once you'd seen the boss on his knees. Trust me on this, big fella. It would have worked.”

“But anyway, now that we're all teed up, what's the use of well-laid plans?” Hannibal said, smiling evilly at BA. “Speaking of, Pike and Lynch aren't planners, so they neglected to empty this space of potentially dangerous items. When we're ready, it shouldn't be too difficult to find something in here we can use to get out.”

“When we're ready?” Face asked, confused. The unfocused look on his face could, of course, have something to do with the way Murdock was licking at the skin just behind his ear. “What, we're not ready now?”

“Well, I don't know about you, lieutenant, but there's still Bremelanotide left in my system, and I plan better in a post-coital state than when I'm horny,” Hannibal chuckled. “Blood distribution, you know how it is.” Then he turned to BA. “And I believe you said something about topping, sergeant?”

BA blushed furiously, his cheeks turning a darker hue and his eyes darting nervously around the room. “Well, yeah, but only if -”

“No ifs, big guy, we've both wondered how good you can give,” Murdock said, suddenly alert and eager. “So bossman got to top you, huh? That's not fair, Hannibal, I thought you said you'd take him in a sort of self-sacrificing way.”

“Well, I meant to, but then he told me to take care of business,” Hannibal said with a wink. “If you want me to keep him, we don't have to switch off.”

“Uh, don't we get a say in this?” Face asked, looking a little flustered.

“No,” Hannibal said simply. “But don't worry, kid, I'll take good care of you. Unless HM wants a repeat performance, of course.”

“I want Bosco next,” Murdock said, grinning maniacally up at the still-blushing man. “Sorry, Facey, but we share nicely in this unit, ain't that right, bossman?”

“Mm,” Hannibal agreed, smirking and reaching into his pocket for a somewhat squashed cigar. “Right you are, captain. Now, Face, you've become quite the master planner lately. What are your thoughts on how four men can have sex without splitting it up?”

***

A goodly while later, the team left the supply room by way of a can of gasoline, some road flares, a few strategically utilized plastic items and Lynch's belt. Long before Lynch and Pike were discovered by a flustered and confused subordinate, they were back in BA's remodelled van and on the way to Los Angeles. Hannibal was smoking and Murdock was babbling happily, and BA was sleeping in the passenger seat, letting Face drive his most prized possession.

“I think we wore him out,” Face said, grinning a little sheepishly at the man next to him.

Murdock giggled. “Yeah, who'd have thought you were such a size queen, Face?”

“Hey, fuck you, I am not a size queen! I'm not even gay; I just got drugged into having sex with you guys!”

“Sure, kid. That's why you were making us take turns pounding your ass, huh?”

“Shut up, boss. Just shut up.”

Hannibal grinned from the back seat, winking at Face in the rear view mirror. Murdock sighed happily and settled into Hannibal's lap, leaning into the boss' wide chest with a contented purr. Stroking Murdock's back with one hand, Hannibal pulled out his cell phone with the other one. He was going to text Sosa and have her send Lynch and Pike a thank-you card.

“Lynch must really love it when his plans make us come together.”


End file.
